before the first american advisors
ever walked the soil of Vietnam
my neighbors had a pony
it died
i don't know where it's buried.
some days it's not difficult for me at all
to hear a ghostly whinny
right on target just the way
i think of you as
the axe laid on the root
of every tree
every tree
every tree
Doll, you may have found a place of rest but I'm still on the trail.
Re: every tree
superb poem...full of emotion and mystery.....good elements for any writer....
the death of empathy is the birth of barbarism